In Giannini's eyes, Hoasan Folgazi Ashulk was a terrible man, even if he was actually very merciful at times, but he was still very scary.

This is evident from the fact that the soldiers who had troubled him had already been put to death.

When the officials of Kalibo learned that an envoy from an Ottoman sultan had arrived in Kalibo, there was another commotion, and they immediately sent representatives to the distinguished guest to find out what he wanted.

Ashulk did have something to do with them, and his first request was to execute the dock soldiers who everyone thought had been forgiven.

Ashulk's reason is simple, if it is only to offend him, he can forgive them for mercy, but if he offends the emissaries of the Sultan, then they must be punished with the most cruelty.

There is no mercy, no mercy, only death as a punishment for sin, and this is the formidable majesty of the sultan who ruled the vast Ottoman Empire.

The officials of the Kalipo were completely frightened by the terrible and powerful of the Ottomans, and they did not raise even the slightest objection, although the execution of men in this small city seemed to be a bit excessive, and several at a time, but they were so frightened that the so-called opposition and resistance only symbolically lasted for a few words, and they threw away their armor, and the only thing they could fight for from the Ottomans was It is only hoped that those people will be beheaded and not subjected to the legendary terrifying pagan death sentences, otherwise their souls will not be able to enter hell.

The tax collector finally got his long-cherished wish, and he was taken to the execution ground with the soldiers, but unfortunately all his courage was used in self-sacrifice when he imagined that he would become a martyr of God and a saint persecuted by the infidels, so when he heard that he was going to be put to death, the tax collector fainted out of fear, and then, when he knew that he was going to die, the man cried like a child on the execution table.

But as Giannini put it, "This is a cold-blooded heretic without a heart," Ashulk was unmoved by the people who begged for his forgiveness, even though some of the soldiers' families begged to kneel outside the door of his house, but he didn't take it seriously, and even played an exotic-sounding piece of music to the sound of the woman crying outside the door.

All this was seen in the eyes of the people, and the impression of the Sultan and his country was renewed, and in the mixture of anger and fear, they also really felt the threat from the Ottomans themselves.

Jonini walked down the familiar streets, always greeted by people along the way, and he was a capable man in the eyes of the Calibo because of his knowledge, especially when they heard that he was working on the ship carrying the Ottoman envoys, and the already enthusiastic people almost praised him as a novelty.

People rushed to see Jonini, who had returned home, and asked him about the terrible heretic, all about whom the Calibo were now the only subject of conversation all day, and whether they had seen him or not, they regarded him as a messenger sent by the devil, who was now trying to cross the Mediterranean with his army and rule and bloodied all of Europe.

Giannini was very patient, and he told the curious neighbors and the people of the city who had come to inquire about the news again and again that he had not seen the sultan, because he would not easily leave his famous palace, and whether the Ottomans had spent their days feeding on the flesh and blood of the poor Christians they had captured, he could not say either.

As for the emissary, while kindly reminding the people not to offend him, he told them that the man was in fact good-tempered and generous, and that if it were not for the majesty he had to maintain as a messenger, he was sometimes even "a real nobleman with an interesting and sympathetic heart."

The old sailor's tactful words did not convince the Kalipo who had seen several bloody heads, but the people were even more afraid of him, for they felt that the heretic was clearly a man who made murder a daily routine.

At last he had sent the men away, and before he had time to rest, Johnini hurried out of his house, and walked along the path towards the sea, and after a long walk he crept into a wooded field not far from the shore.

It was an inconspicuous forest, and Giannini walked carefully into it, carefully identifying the direction.

It was too dark that night, and Giannini was in a hurry for fear of being discovered, so he only remembered that he had dragged the body of Modillo ashore and buried it in the woods.

As for why he would risk being discovered and bury the hapless monk, Giannini himself could not tell.

All he knew was that he had stumbled upon a murder, but because it was too dark for him to be sure who had done this terrible thing by the two men on the cliff.

"Or maybe I'm not sure." Giannini muttered under his breath, he felt that he actually knew who the murderer was, but he didn't dare to think about it for a while.

Giannini paused to make the next direction, then continued on his way, and when he came to the bottom of a slope facing the beach, he looked at it again, then walked around and stood in front of a few rocks that looked slightly obtrusive.

"This is it," Giannini drew a cross on his chest, remembering that he had buried poor Modillo that night, and for fear that the rain would wash away the dirt, he found a few stones nearby and put them on the monk's "grave", also to make it easier to find "Are you sleeping here, monk?" ”

Giannini crouched down and patted a stone in front of him, he couldn't say why he buried this person in the first place, but vaguely felt that maybe it would be useful in the future, so he took out a cross from his coat pocket.

It was taken off Giorgio Mordillo's neck when he buried him, and it had Mordiglo's name on it, and it may have been engraved by himself.

Jonini wrapped the lanyard around his hand and put the cross to his mouth and kissed it gently.

Like many sailors, Giannini was superstitious, convinced that the discovery of the murder and the evidence that he had chosen to leave behind were some kind of force suggesting, and that he didn't really care if it was a revelation from God or some mysterious omen.

"Maybe one day I'll let you out of here, and hopefully you'll bring me good luck then." With that, Giannini patted the stone that was a symbol and a metaphor for a tombstone, and then stood up and looked at the hill called Green Ridge outside the woods.

From the dense crevices of the woods, you can see the top of the Green Ridge, on which the Monastery of St. Sebalong was built.

Giannini was familiar with the convent, having sent some fish to St. Sebaarón more than once, and he remembered trying to please Brother Mordillo every time.

Now Mordillo has been buried under the stones, and Giannini has returned to Caripo.

Somehow, Giannini suddenly remembered the young man named Alexandre Giulian Gombray.

Where is that young man now, Naples or somewhere else?

Giannini knew that the young man he had saved in the first place seemed to be a big man now, and even the pretty bohemian girl seemed to be living a good life.

Only old Jonini was still trying to get by at sea, and while complaining so secretly, Jonini strode through the woods towards the green ridge.

Just like when he rescued Alexander, Cuiling still showed the cold of winter solitude, and the cold wind blowing on the sea in the distance made it necessary for those walking on the mountain road to take a lot of effort every step, and when he was halfway there, Jonini had to stop and rest, licking his chapped lips, and the old sailor couldn't help but look back at the sea.

"It's almost there." Jonini cheered himself up, and when he saw a figure pulling a heavy water cart in the distance ahead, he took a few quick steps to catch up.

"Need help?" Jonini said as he pushed the cart hard behind him.

"Thank you, God bless you kind people." It was a middle-aged man who pulled the cart, and he turned back to Giannini and nodded gratefully, "Are you a local?" Why haven't I seen you? ”

"I haven't seen you either, you're not from Kalibo?"

"No," the middle-aged man struggled forward to pull the cart forward, "I came from Crete more than a month ago, and now Crete is not at peace, and the infidels may attack there at any time, I was scared so I escaped by boat with my family, but fortunately, God bless our family to Kalibo safely, and now I work for the monastery, and my family is in the city, although the days are not as good as they have passed, but at least they are safe, aren't they?" ”

The middle-aged man is very talkative, perhaps because the long period of repressive life in the convent makes him feel a little unbearable, and he can't stop talking as soon as he opens his mouth, and even the always natural and talkative Jonini can't interject.

"Work for the monastery," Giannini smiled, and he remembered the young Greek man, just like him, this man was also hiding from the Ottomans, but it was clear that this man was much luckier, at least the road was safe, "So is the abbot okay now, I am asking if he is still healthy?" You know, I've been away from Calibo for almost a year. ”

Hearing the sailor's question, the middle-aged man's feet couldn't help but pause slightly.

"What, isn't he so good?" Giannini asked, a little worried.

"No, the dean's health is very good, maybe he can live to be 80 years old, I just think his spirit seems to be a little ......," the middle-aged man said, stretched out a finger and turned around his head and made a gesture, "The dean-sama is often left alone, and he doesn't seem to like me very much." He shook his head a little helplessly.

"That's too bad," Giannini echoed sympathetically, "I'm a sailor, I think I can understand your feelings, a monastery is like a ship, and it would be too bad if the captain didn't like you." ”

Giannini's words obviously made the middle-aged man feel that he had found someone to talk to, and he immediately began to talk about the distress in his heart, and from his words, Giannini quickly learned about the abbot's recent situation.

"It seems that the Dean has something on his mind, perhaps because he is worried about the Ottomans," Jonini said, shaking his head, "but the Ottomans did come, although only one came, but who knows what will happen later." ”

"Yes, I heard, an Ottoman emissary." The middle-aged man was also full of worry, and both of them were thinking about their own thoughts, and for a while, except for the creaking sound of the wheels crushing the ground, both of them were silent.

The cart full of water jugs was finally on the ground, and San Sebaron was already in front of him, and Giannini slowly took a few steps forward, looking up at the sturdy stone building.

Although it is not a well-known place, it was the first monastery to be built on the south bank of Sicily, and it was designed to be so strong that when the French occupied Sicily, they sent people to repair the monastery more than once.

The middle-aged man pulled the waterwheel along a path by the monastery wall towards an inconspicuous corner door, with Giannini following him.

Seeing him coming, the middle-aged man didn't say anything although he looked back.

The corner door was low but heavy, and when it was pushed open, it made a dull noise.

Jonini stood by the waterwheel and watched someone open the door from the inside, and to his surprise, there was an old man standing there inside the slightly dim door.

"Lord Dean," the middle-aged man bowed, then stepped aside, "Are you going out again, it seems to be a little cold today." ”

"Whether the weather is good or bad, it is God's arrangement," said the abbot, slowly walking out of the darkness with his cane, "and perhaps sometimes bad weather is God's gift." ”

"You're right, Dean." Giannini bowed to the abbot, "Everything is God's arrangement. ”

The dean obviously didn't expect anyone else to be here, and when he saw Jonini's face clearly, he let out a "hum" as if relieved.

"I remember the last time you brought fish in almost a year ago, how were your days at sea?" The abbot asked casually.

"Thank you, Abbot," Giannini took the abbot's hand and kissed it, "It's all right, at least this time I'll make it back to Calibo alive." ”

"This is the grace of God, pray it once pray, my child." The abbot said something absent-mindedly, and then walked slowly along the wall into the distance.

Watching the abbot finally disappear around the corner at the end of the long wall, Giannini's face couldn't help but show a hint of contemplation.

"Does the dean always go out to the beach like this?" He asked seemingly casually.

"yes, at least I've seen him do it a lot." The middle-aged man moves the jug out of the car with the help of Giannini.

"yes, I haven't heard of him having this hobby before." Jonini muttered under his breath.